


Twine Your Fingers Now

by buckysbears (DrZebra)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bus fam, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post 3x13, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 17:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6338746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZebra/pseuds/buckysbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The car ride back from the bar doesn't go so smoothly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twine Your Fingers Now

**Author's Note:**

> the kids are a little drunk and a lot weepy

Jemma is the first to break on the drive back home. The others are not far behind her, already on the edge of it themselves, but Jemma’s choked sob is the first noise May’s heard since the five of them piled back into the black SUV. A car on the highway near them honks and it shatters the delicate silence they’d been maintaining, and then it’s obvious that Jemma is doing everything she can to hold in further noise—eyebrows pinched and hand clasped around her mouth—but it’s not enough. There’s a soft whine in the air, stuttering around a gasp and a cough. 

Fitz and Daisy press up against her on both sides, palms rubbing against her legs and shoulders and generally making contact wherever they can. Daisy’s voice, murmuring little nonsense to try and soothe all of them, is too high pitched and on the verge of breaking. Fitz looks like he’s trying to say something but his mouth is just opening and closing around empty air, so he pulls himself closer instead. Jemma lets go of another sob as they converge on her, and then reaches out to grab at them both. 

May sighs and tips back against the headrest, watching the three of them in the rear-view mirror. Phil shoots her a ‘do I need to pull over?’ look, but she shakes her head, figuring that the best thing to do is to just keep driving, give the kids the little privacy they have, and be there if they’re needed. 

“I’m so sick of this,” Jemma grounds out, tears running down her cheeks, one hand clasped around Daisy’s thigh and the other fisted in Fitz’s shirt. “I’m so sick of losing people.” 

“It’s not fair,” Daisy agrees. Her face crumbles and she buries it in Jemma’s neck, tries to wrap her arms around them both and almost makes it. 

Fitz shifts to run his hand through Daisy’s hair, pushes his lips against Jemma’s temple and doesn’t draw back. His eyes are a little glassy, but he mostly looks far away. Like he hasn’t had the time to process. 

“They were just protecting each other,” Jemma says, and May doesn’t know who she’s trying to argue with. “And then they protected us and they shouldn’t have to suffer the consequences. They shouldn’t have to leave.” 

“It’s not fair,” Daisy says again, voice muffled. 

“Why does this have to happen? It’s just- just bloody stupid. I hate this.” Jemma hiccups, and then takes a moment to try and compose herself, but it doesn’t work and she lets out a string of quiet sobs. “Why couldn’t you have made them stay?” she cries, aimed at the front of the car. 

“It was their choice to make.” Coulson says, and Jemma is nodding before he’s finished the sentence, obviously in agreement but too upset to care. For his part, Coulson doesn’t look happy about it either. 

“They have each other.” May locks eyes with Jemma in the mirror, and hopes Jemma understands what she’s not saying as well. That there are good people around her right now; to hold on tight while she can. Because right now, in this moment, they have each other, and that matters. Jemma nods, wipes a few tears off her face, tightens her grip on the other two. 

Daisy growls out a noise of frustration. “But we need them,” she says, even though she must know it’s not true. She hides her face behind Jemma’s shoulder and then amends, “I want them back.” 

“Me too,” Fitz agrees, as if they’ll put it up to a vote and do something about it. 

“They’ll be happy … right?” Jemma says, trying for assured and failing. “They have each other and they’ll be happy. And safe.” 

“Yeah,” Coulson says, but doesn’t sound convincing. He’s seen what a life in constant motion can do to people. 

“They’re tough,” May adds, because even Daisy had looked up at Coulson’s tone. 

Daisy flops her head back down to rest on Jemma’s shoulder, wiping a few tears off her face with the back of her wrist, looking decidedly childlike. “I wish I could be tough right now. I just feel sick.” 

“You- You are tough,” Fitz tells her, stroking her arm, “this is just hard.” 

“And we’ve been through worse,” she shoots back, voice becoming choked again. “But it just feels like … it feels like we’re losing family.” 

“One that’s fractured enough to begin with,” Jemma agrees. 

Fitz nods, and then turns to look out the window. He’s quiet for a long time, the car filled only with the sounds of sniffling and the hum of the engine, and when he talks he sounds like he’s struggling to get past every word. “Bobbi helped me a lot, when- when you were gone, Jemma. I don’t know … I couldn’t have done it without her. And now she’s the one who’s leaving,” he lets his head flop backwards, blinking tears up at the ceiling of the car, “but we still have each other. And that’s how we’re gonna get past it. Because we’re together.” 

“And we’re not letting go,” Jemma says, and then links all of their hands together and pulls them tight around her stomach. 

“Never,” Daisy agrees. 

After a while they’re quiet enough that May thinks they’ve fallen asleep, huddled close as they are, breathing even and eyes closed. But Jemma eventually lets her eyes drift back open to watch the trees speed by the window, and Fitz keeps shifting against her, occasionally raising his free hand to scratch at his face. Daisy, for all her stillness, is the one to speak. 

“Remember,” she starts, and then has to clear her throat. “Remember the time that we found the Winnie the Pooh book in Lance’s room? And he was trying to defend himself so he just opened it up and started reading. And he read the whole thing, and like four people cried.” 

“Weren’t you one of the ones crying?” Jemma laughs, a little wetly. 

Daisy laughs back, completely unabashedly, and it’s a good sound. “I totally was.” 

“And the time-“ Fitz joins in, perking up a bit, “that those um, those new recruits were talking bad about the Inhumans in the kitchen. And Bobbi overheard them and broke into all of their bunks and put dye in their conditioners so they all had blue hair the next day.” 

“And then wrote them up for going against dress code,” Daisy remembers, grinning fondly. 

“They were always looking out for us,” Jemma says, and her face darkens, and May almost throws in a happy memory herself just to get that look off her face. 

“I’m really going to miss them,” Fitz says, and the other two nod, Daisy heaving a sigh. 

“We’ll keep tabs,” Coulson assures them, “make sure they’re doing alright. It’ll be too dangerous to contact them for a while, but maybe a little ways down the road …” 

“We can write them letters? And give them all to them later?” Daisy asks, sounding hopeful. 

“Sure.” Coulson nods. 

“And maybe we could, uh-“ Fitz wiggles his fingers, “send them coded messages, you know, through Daisy’s Instagram or something.” 

Coulson tilts his head, finally straining out a noise of acceptance. “You can try.” 

“They’re not gone,” Jemma says, sounding like she’s trying to convince herself. “They aren’t lost. We just … can’t be with them for a while.” 

“They’re on vacation,” May says, specifically for the way it makes the kids’ faces look a little lighter. 

“Right,” Daisy chirps. “They’re on vacation. They deserve it.” 

“They better get us souvenirs,” Fitz grumbles, and the other two laugh. 

They begin talking amongst themselves, about what souvenirs they want, and what tourist sites Bobbi and Hunter will probably go see, and the places they’ll stay at and the people they’ll meet. May closes her eyes, rests her hand on the center console, and doesn’t pull away when Coulson rests his hand next to hers, pinkies brushing. Their family is a little smaller, but these kids are still together, and for now that’ll have to be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> (mack is too big he had to take a different car? or like he's going after bobbi, never know. that's what i'd be doing)


End file.
